


Act of Devotion

by BarPurple



Series: Mollcroft for the win [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Mycroft, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the frankly awful day Molly had suffered, Mycroft plans to make her feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act of Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Scribblingnellie wanted some Mollcroft fluff to cheer her up since she's unwell at the moment. 
> 
> This is set directly after Don't Believe What You See. Can be read as a stand alone, but that one does explain why Mycroft wanted to pamper Molly.

Mycroft finished work early that afternoon. After the stress caused by that bloody photo he decided that being with Molly was more important that the paperwork on his desk. He let himself into her little flat, careful to ensure that Toby didn’t make one of his frequent escape attempts. The moggy eyed him from the back of the sofa before stretching into an arch and padding towards his food bowl.

“Yes, I know. Food for you first Toby.”

He hung his overcoat and shed his suit jacket causing Toby to meow impatiently. Mycroft fed the cat with the hint of a fond smile on his lips. There was a little over an hour before Molly would be home, just enough time for him to prepare the evening of indulgence he had planned for her. 

“We’re going to spoil our darling Molly tonight Toby.”

Toby cocked his head as if actually listening and sprang up onto one of the kitchen stools to watch the British Government make dinner. Mycroft delighted in cooking, although he would try his hand at complex dishes it was the simple meals he took greatest pleasure in. Tonight he was making spaghetti Bolognese because he’d discovered it was Molly’s favourite.

Three quarters of an hour later the Bolognese was cooked ready to be heated once the pasta was done. Mycroft dried his hands off and gave the clock a calculating glance. Molly would be home in ten minutes; he was certain of the exact time because he’d arranged for Vincent to pick her up from work. She certainly didn’t need the hassle of the Tube this evening, then again if Mycroft got his way she’d have her own driver and never have to descend into the nightmare crush of the Underground again. He shuddered at the thought of his gentle Molly in the press of bodies during rush hour. Dismissing the distasteful image Mycroft made his way to the bathroom. He fitted the plug and span the taps to fill the bath, and then laid out everything he’d need to hand when Molly arrived.

“Mycroft?”

Molly called out as she walked into her flat. She was greeted by the delicious smell of Spag Bol and the wonderful sight of her boyfriend standing in the hall. Mycroft’s tie was loosened from his collar, the top button undone; the free end of the tie tucked in between buttons over his chest; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows and he was bare foot. Molly smile grew, this was relaxed Mycroft, a pleasure reserved just for her.

“Welcome home Molly.”

She let him place a quick kiss on her lips, before gently pushing him away.

“I’m all grotty from work. Let me grab a quick shower then I’ll say hello properly.”

There was a smile playing on his lips as he helped her off with her coat. Molly headed for the bathroom only to stop dead in her tracks in to doorway gasping in surprise.

The tub was filled with water; a dozen floating candles drifting on the surface among the scattered white rose petals. Fat pillar candles occupied the flat surface of the counter, sharing the space with neatly folded fluffy towels.

Mycroft stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Molly reached up and covered his hands with her own.

“What’s all this?”

“For you.”

Molly twisted her head and smiled up at him. At the gentle guidance of his hands Molly turned to face him. He drank in the intoxicating sight of her happy face for a second before he began undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“After the awful day you’ve endured I intend to worship you and that starts with a shower.”

Molly bit her lip.

“And will you be joining me for this shower?”

Mycroft’s eyes flicked up to hers. His fingers fumbled ever so slightly at the wicked gleam in her eye.

“Only as your devoted servant. This is all for you, my darling Molly.”

After he’d tenderly removed her clothes Mycroft quickly striped to his underwear. He’d had to dodge Molly’s hands as she tried to undress him, if she ran those delicate fingers over his skin all of Mycroft’s plans to pamper her would be shot to hell. She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t remove his boxers, but let him take her hand and lead her to the shower. Molly’s shower was a huge duel headed affair and the reason she’d taken this flat in the first place. She loved bubble baths for relaxing, but after a twelve hour shift in the morgue a long shower was the only way to wash the day away.

Mycroft twisted the tap to the exact degree he’d observed was Molly’s preference. She stepped under the spray with a deep sigh that caused Mycroft’s heart to flutter as he stepped in behind her. Molly reached for her shower gel only to find that Mycroft already had it in his hand. As he squeezed a generous amount into his hand he said;

“I did say you have a devoted servant this evening.” 

Molly groaned with pleasure and he began lathering her body with the lemon scented gel. His touch was firm, but gentle; loving but not sexual. Her hand reached for the support of the tiled wall as he sank to his knees, his bubble filled hand sliding down her legs.

“Oh Mycroft.”

He looked up at blinking against the gentle spray of the shower. The goddess before him took his breath away. Molly’s eyes were hooded, a loving smile on her lips, the water cascading over the perfect curves of her body. Mycroft swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, words failing him utterly. Only three offered themselves and he spoke them.

“I love you.”

Molly smile grew and her hand reached for his face. He rose smoothly to his feet and she melted against his body, her eyes never leaving his. Mycroft’s head was spinning, a ringing in his ears, and his heart pounding beneath his ribs. He felt her reply against his lips just before she kissed him.

“I love you.”


End file.
